Boardie and rashie game is on point, so I’ll allow the bear crawl. I disapprove Neameyer.

Well, you clearly didn’t grow up in a nanny-state like oh...

Mick (the people’s champ) Fanning!

Despicable comment, Minions aren’t cats.

I’d fist bump you, but sadly I can’t, for I’m now a 92009’er and the reach is too far. In the early aughts I carried the 92024 proudly, but now I’m a lowly 92009’er and it’s a cold, desolate hell over here; a mere 500 yards from your zip code. It’s like your on the wall covered in crow finery and I’m stuck in Mance…

Close, Encinitas.

Encinitas.

Right?

Rough day for Guy fieri

It can certainly be a problem, but there are ways to counteract the public boner in clothing. Not so much in a wetsuit, wetsuit boners are the worst boners. Wetsuit boners.

*tips fedora 23 percent of the way*

In Derek Norris’s defense, dude deserves an all-star spot.

His revelations have made Obama look terrible on multiple occasions; there is no way he pardons the guy.

Ohno!

Dolphinately plausible.

Shine on Shireen.

While I’ve never had the opportunity to savor Oreo Wafer Sticks, Milka & Oreo is pretty damn delicious:

You’re spot on. Rough breakups fucking suck, but posting intimate photos & videos only meant for your eyes to the internet is despicable.

Um, no. I’ve dipped into my fair share of mormon panties over the years and they tend to resemble whatever Victoria’s Secret is pushing on the middle class populace. Then again, I reside in Southern California; make of that what you will.